Teaching Poetry
by Fiallah
Summary: Marie takes her precious time teaching Theodore how to write poetry.
Theodore could see why Marie wrote poems as often as she does. Sitting in the Velvet Room with nothing to do nearly drove himself to madness. Marie was creative enough to pass the time by writing such wonderful poetry.

"I feel privileged just to read all of this." Theodore eyes sparkled as he thumbed through the numerous pages. Every so often Marie would stop by the workshop and show him her latest musings, and Theodore was always as happy, as one could be when he read all of her descriptive poems.

"You should be." She nodded. Marie liked it as well, as she finally found someone who appreciated it and gave her compliments rather than tiptoeing around the fact that they didn't like it. She was just surprised Theodork was the one who was smart enough to be the one.

"Your skills are improving quickly." Theodore commented, placing the papers on the table. Marie arched a brow, pouting her soft pink lips.

"What's that supposed to mean? Were the last ones no good?"

Theodore was quick to clarify, "Not at all, I'm just saying you get better." He gulped, "And the fact you can write so much when confined in that room all the time. Marie, I must ask, where do you get the inspiration?"

"That's… something I can't explain, Theodork." Marie crossed her arms, her whole face was burning.

"I see." He scratched his chin, "It's a question that can't be answered."

"Exactly." She looked at him, "I can't tell you how it works. It just… happens."

"I think I'm starting to get it."

The slapped her open palm on the table, making Theodore jump in his seat. "Idiot! I just told you it doesn't work like that!"

"Please, don't get angry Marie." He whimpered. "I… almost forgot. Because of these meetings, because of you, I should say." Marie was intrigued, and sat back in her seat so Theodore could get comfortable again. "I was able to write a poem of my own." He under his apron and into his blazer, where he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

"Really?" Marie said skeptically, grabbing the piece of paper from Theo's hand, and unfolding it despite Theodore's protests. "Is it as bad as the last one about Candied Apples?"

Theodore nodded his head, "I'm confident it's a drastic improvement, and with no time constants, I was able to put all of my thought into it."

Marie hummed, as she read the title that was written in a very neat, wavy cursive. "Huh… Protecting."

"Yes… it's a poem about how I put all of my heart into what I do here in the workshop." He was stopped when Marie cut him off.

"Quiet, Theodork. I'm reading."

 _'Protecting'_

 _'Hidden away in this heated chamber'_

 _'Miles away, not even as passing thought'_

 _'But with my heart poured into your armor'_

 _'I continue to protect you'_

 _'And serve you'_

Marie blinked, looking at the poem with surprised eyes, "Wow, this is…"

"Is it good?" Theodore asked nervously, twiddling his gloved hands as he waited for Marie's answer.

"60 points."

He looked disheartened, "Out of 1000?"

"I'd say out of 100 this time."

"R-really?" Theodore smiled, clasping his hands together. "Thank you Marie."

"It's still barley passing." She reminded.

"But in comparison to last time! I'd say it's quite the improvement." Nevertheless, Theodore was satisfied with the results, even if it was still subpar at best. How pathetic.

"Hmm… maybe a 40 out of 100."

Theodore pouted, "Now you're just being unfair."

"20."

Theodore pouted, and slouched in his seat. Marie tilted her head, and sighed.

"Okay, maybe 30."

A small smile crept onto Theodore's face. Little snake, he was just farming for sympathy.

Marie grabbed the stack of papers, and tapped the against the table so they'd stack neatly on top each other before slipping them back inside of her blue messenger bag. "I'm gonna head back to the room."

Theodore gasped, watching Marie walked towards the exit. "So soon?"

"Hey, don't want your sister blowing a fuse because I've been out so long."

"Hmm…" Theodore looked to his thighs, "Yes, Margaret would be displeased if I kept you too long."

Marie cocked an eye brow at Theodore, before shrugging her shoulders and walking out of the workshop.

"Hey, I'm back." She announced as she returned to her spot on the floor.

"You're back early."  
"Hmm, what do you mean?" She asked.

"I mean that you usually spend more time with Theodore."

Marie stopped in her track of retrieving a blank piece of paper from her bag, "I'm not-" Not once did Marie say that she was hanging out with Theodore to Margaret. Hell she had a hard time admitting to herself that she was doing so.

Margaret smiled, chuckling at how Marie hid her blush. "Theodore told me."

Marie crushed the paper she had between her hands. "What?"

"Yes, he was telling me about how you were teaching him poetry. I was happy to hear you two were becoming friends."

"I-I'm not friends with him!" Marie quickly stood up, "I just have nothing better to do! And he's not always here to take me places and you never let me leave this room!"

"Hmm? When did I ever stop you from leaving here!"

"You always do!" Marie objected, despite Margaret being completely right; as Marie couldn't think of an instant of Margaret asking her where she was going. "Like-" Yet she was still speaking. "Like."

"Um, excuse me."

Both of the girls looked towards the entrance of the room, where the youngest Velvet Sibling stood shaking in his shoes.

"Hello Theodore." Margaret greeted with a small smile that had nothing good to promise. "I assume you're here to talk to Marie?"

Marie felt a snap, and she looked at Margaret with a crooked smile, _'You witch! Stupidoldbagihateyou!'_

"Yes." Theodore stepped into the room and approached them, doing so while he reached into his pocket. "I had another poem, Marie." He pulled out a piece of pink paper and held it out for Marie, "But you left so quickly, I didn't have a chance to give it too you."

Marie grabbed the paper from his hands, "Well, is that all?" She said blankly as she unfolded the paper, "So go."

At Theodore's offense, Margaret chided: "Marie, you shouldn't be so dismissive. Theodore is a nice boy, he doesn't deserve-"

"No, she's right." Theodore cut her off, his smile wavering, "I'll be on my way, but please, Marie. When you're done reading, please stop by and tell me what you think." With a bow, "Until then." He was out the door.

Marie hummed softly as she walked back to her spot. Oddly enough it was the same spot she always sat, as it was marked by a circle of blank papers. It was like a nest. Instinct. Something both animals and humans possess, that draws them to the same stream, that makes them repeat the same mistakes. Such a wonderful pathos, and drawn from such a mundane thing.

Marie smiled, she could save it for later. She looked at the piece of paper, covered in Theodore's flowing handwriting.

 _'Beauty Lessons'_

 _'A unteachable lesson'_

 _'Learning that it's impossible to teach is the key to learning'_

 _'Inspiration is drawn'_

 _'A lesson taught by my beautiful teacher'_

 _'It can't be taught'_

 _'The words that express my thankfulness'_

 _'They can't be taught'_

Marie gripped the paper tightly within her trembling hands. Her face so red that her ears were tinged pink. _"W-what is this?"_ Her brain was struggling to form words, _'What the hell is this?!'_

"What is it Marie?" She heard Margaret asked, but she probably knew what it was based on Marie's reaction.

"N-Nothing!" She looked at Margret with a beet red face as she pressed the paper against her chest, "It's just really bad!"

Margaret tilted her head with a small smile, "Well, if that's so, please let Theo down gently. Besides working in the shop, I've never seen him so thrilled about something. It'd be sad to see him-"

"Yeah yeah, I let the little dork off easy." Marie brushed her off as she stuffed the poem in her bag and sat back down her her spot and grabbed one of the blank sheets of paper and reached back into her bag, fishing around the bottom until she felt her pen.

'Great, now I'm all distracted…' She clenched her eyes shut as she tried to think of what to write. And she had such a great idea, too! Leave it to that dumbass to ruin her ideas with his stupid love poem, if it can even be called that! It was all over the place, and the only hint of it being such was the word 'beautiful'. He was calling her… beautiful.

Marie opened her eyes, and realized how quickly her heart was beating. She place and hand on her chest and clenched her shirt.

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

…

…

…

Theodore expected a slap to the face, or getting called some insult that was just a bunch of hurtful words sewn together. But instead Marie was quiet, her lips pouted as she shoved a piece of paper into his chest and sat down in the chair Theodore reserved for her.

"Marie…"

"Just read it you idiot."

"B-but." He looked at the paper, "My poem."

"Yeah, I'll score it after you read that." She looked away with her arms crossed, brokering no room for argument. Theodore whimpered, and sat down in the seat parallel to her and read the frantic, trembling handwriting. It was almost unintelligible.

 _'How can this be'_

 _'I let such silly words get to my head'_

 _'It's just a word'_

 _'Yet it clouds my mind like those eyes of solid gold'_

 _'Words worth as much as gold'_

 _'Who knew I was so greedy'_

Theodore placed the paper down on the table and slid it back towards her, "Marie."

"By the way, you're poem was… 10 out of a hundred. For being so vague."

He gave a small smile, "You're one to talk."

She slammed her hands on the table and leaned over, "Now what the hell does that mean!"

"Nothing! Vagueness if your thing anyway, it was wrong of me to try and take your style!"

Marie hopped out of her chair with a frustrated growl as she grasped the sides of her head. "Ugh, you're so bad with words! You… you dumbass!"

"So…" His eyebrows curved, "you really didn't like it." Theodore let his head fall, "I see, well, I should just stop."

Marie stopped. Was that a tremble in his voice. She looked back at Theodore, and sighed, "Idiot. I never said that, I…" Now she wasn't gonna say he was right on anything. Even if some her poems were bait ambiguous, but those were mainly because her pathos wasn't as powerful with those ones. "Look, don't… Hey…"

"Marie… just throw away my poems. They seem to upset you, that's not what I wanted."

She as taken a back, "Idiot, they didn't do that. You just don't…"

"What?" Theodore looked up, his eyes innocent. "I thought girls like being called beautiful."

"Well." Crap she was blushing. And in front of this moron no less. She scratched the back of her head, her eyes darting within their sockets to avoid eye contact. "You just don't hand me a love letter in front of Margaret, I'll never hear the end of it from her!"

"I see… so I'll just give you one whenever you're here." Theodore declared, "I'll start right now!"

Marie wanted to stop him, but when he saw him get up to retrieve a piece of paper and a pen, she decided not to stop him. The fluttering feeling in her chest wasn't unpleasant, it was just the fact she was getting swayed by a numbskull like Theodore. It was really stupid.


End file.
